


My Eyes!

by LexieCarver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dad!Crowley, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Sass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 16:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13239726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexieCarver/pseuds/LexieCarver
Summary: Pairing: Dad!Crowley, Daughter!Reader, Dean x ReaderBeta: @chaosinacoffeecupWord Count: 1,593Prompt: This was inspired by the aesthetic post below made by @webcricket for the SPN Advent Challenge, day 18 with the prompt, “red flannel.”





	My Eyes!

 

(made by @webcricket)

 

[Also on my Tumblr-](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/169211600386/my-eyes)

 

“Hello...boys?” Crowley inquired into a completely dark bunker. He slowly walked in further and turned on the lights. “Hello?” he repeated. “Is anyone even bloody here?” Crowley’s angry voice rang out in the library of the bunker.

 

 

You and Dean were farther down the hallway and truthfully you were both quite sleepy. So, while the angry tone was audible, what the stranger called out and who it was, remained a mystery. Sometimes, words bounced awkwardly around the bunker- not to mention how fuzzy your head was.

 

 

Had you heard what was said, you would have put on actual clothes but given that you only had what? Five hours of actual sleep? Damn insomnia, you weren't thinking with your logical brain. No, you were thinking with your sleep deprived one.

 

 

There were only a certain amount of people that knew about this place so the list of possible suspects was a short one at that. And only one or two of the names on that list were actual foes. All the same, your hands dove under Dean’s pillow and swiped his gun, better safe than sorry. You managed to snag it without waking Dean, score. No sense in waking the hunter needlessly. It could be Cas puttering about out there, simply wanting to talk. You were totally jealous of Dean and his ability to really sleep. Sleep, what a nice idea.

 

 

You padded out of bed, red fuzzy socks on, as you went to find out who it was. You were armed with a gun and wearing only Dean’s red plaid flannel shirt that barely covered you. It ended just at your inner thigh so no bending down for anything.

 

 

You walked slowly into the library, your eyes still adjusting to the light, totally groggy. A groan left your lips as you saw a figure in front of you. A tall figure in a black coat? Was that a coat? Was that his skin? Gun drawn you yelled, your voice betraying your tiredness but confident all the same, “ Who the fuck comes over here at 8am?” As you asked the question, you cocked the gun ready to fire when your vision suddenly became clearer. Crowley turned at that moment, to see who had spoken. You both had twin looks of horror of your faces.

 

 

“Bloody hell love. Clothes. Actual clothes! Where are they?”

 

 

“Cell phone are useful devices to call someone and let them know you’re coming. Not scaring them at 8 am.”

 

 

Completely ignoring your comment, Crowley continued his angry sputtering, “You said you were visiting your boyfriend.” The dangerous tone in his voice quite obvious.

 

 

“I did, didn't I,” you replied with a smirk, knowing your clever father would put two and two together eventually.

 

 

And it seems he did. His face paled and he flashed you an angry glare as he eyes settled on the red plaid flannel shirt that barely covered you. “Y/N, love, why are you wearing Dean’s shirt?”

 

 

“Gee father, I don’t know. Why do you think?” you sassed, placing the gun on the table. It wouldn’t hurt your father. And he was already angry enough, no need in destroying his suit and making him angrier. “Not like I was planning on a fatherly visit. As I said before, cellphones are handy for letting people know you’re coming by. If I had known, I would have dressed in actual clothes. Next time text or call, father.”

 

 

“I should have guessed my daughter would be as cheeky as I. You’re with a Winchester? My daughter, the Princess of Hell, is with a Winchester?”

 

 

“You make it sound like something horrible. Like an Apocalypse or something. I’m with a Winchester dad, deal with it,” you said, hand on your hip.

 

 

Crowley glared, clearly not amused at the amount of sass you hurled his way. “I will NOT, deal with it, love. I’m the KING of BLOODY HELL. I don’t HAVE to deal with it. I could make-.”

 

 

“You even dare to harm one hair, on who you affectionately call “Squirrel’s” head, and I will ruin the Hell you built.”

 

 

“You’re playing with fire, love.”

 

 

“Could say the same about you. You’d lose me as a daughter and gain me an enemy. Think about it father. Easier to just accept it and move the fuck on, no?”

 

 

Choosing to ignore the cursing and angry reply, he remained silent and looked at you, really look at you. Behind the angry and confident, threatening posture, he could see fear and pain in your eyes. You hid it well but he was your father, you could never hide your true emotions from him. Sighly, he knew he was defeated, he couldn’t bare to lose his only daughter. Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose. “He really means that much to you?” he asked defeated and exhausted from the verbal sparring.

 

 

“I didn’t come here for a family squabble.”

 

 

“Could have fooled me, love. You fight with the best of them.”

 

 

“Did I mention my father was the King of Hell? He taught me all I know.”

 

 

Crowley chuckled at that. You really were your father’s daughter.

 

 

“You know, I only came out here to ward off a possible intruder,” you said matter-of-factly.

 

 

“In that?” Crowley said, his jaw dropped yet again, this time in scandalized surprise.

 

 

You rolled your eyes. “Only a few people know of the existence of this bunker and I can handle myself. I wasn’t going to waste precious time by grabbing proper clothes. Someone was yelling in the Bunker, angrily might I add. Thought it best to run out and face it. Besides, I’m covered.”

 

 

Crowley gawfed. “Barely darling. I taught you better than that.”

 

 

You were about to reply when Dean came around the corner. He smiled at your adorable bedhead and wound his arm around your waist, making your shirt rise a bit over your thighs.

 

 

Crowley rolled his eyes at a half-erect sleepy Dean in boxers who obviously had a good dream and his scantily clad daughter. “For the love of…I’ve been to Hell you know.” Crowley snapped his fingers making the both of you fully clothed.

 

 

Dean cooed at you, ignoring Crowley’s response, his brain clearly not catching up with current events. “Hey sweetie why are out of...ah..hi, Crowley?” The second he noticed Crowley there, his voice changed and had a sudden edge to it. “Can I help you?”

 

 

“Yes actually you can, Squirrel. I came here to tell you the location of the aforementioned object.”

 

 

“Huh?” Dean questioned. He mouthed, “aforementioned,” to you and you smiled at his confusion. Your father had a habit of using rather sophisticated words.

 

 

“Oh bloody hell. The stone moron, the magical stone and the black market auction? Ringing any bells now.”

 

 

“Dad! No need to be mean about it. You used a word few use in conversation. Cut the poor hunter some slack.”

 

 

“I can talk to him how I bloody well please, princess. That I can control.”

 

 

You rolled your eyes.

 

 

“A hunter really?” he asked you.

 

 

“I love your daughter,” Dean confessed.

 

 

“Do you now?” Crowley questioned with fire in his eyes.

 

 

“Yes, and I was going to ask her to marry me when she woke up-.”

 

 

“OMG. Yes,” you quickly responded, not even letting Dean finish. Dean chuckled at your enthusiasm.

 

 

“I knew you would say yes, pumpkin, but I know how much you love romantic gesture. I had it all figured out.”

 

 

You ran into Dean’s arms, welcoming a tight hug from the hunter. “All I need is you Dean. Forget romantic gestures.”

 

 

His voice was slightly muffled by your hair but both Crowley and you still heard him. “I would have waited as I planned but I wanted Crowley to know I’m serious about this, about us. I want to always be there to protect you and give you the love you deserve.”

 

 

He disconnected from you and kissed your forehead, running back into his room. You laughed and in that moment Crowley knew he was done for. There was no getting rid of Dean. He would truly have to deal with a Winchester as a son-in-law. He could see how much in love you were, it was written all over your face. And that smile, he had hardly ever seen that when you were in Hell. No, you were happy here as a hunter with Dean. Crowley would never understand it but clearly you wanted this and you were loved, truly loved. And that’s all a father could ever ask for.

 

 

Dean raced back and brought out a gorgeous antique diamond ring.

 

 

“This is gorgeous. How did you ever afford… Wait a minute, did you get this on the hunt a few months back? At that estate sale?”

 

 

“I might have.,” he said coyly, waiting to see your reaction.

 

 

“Clever boy,” you said in a sultry voice with a wink.

 

 

Dean was overjoyed that you said yes and that you loved the ring. He felt he wanted to explain it a bit more. “She was so grateful we solved her problem, she offered one free item, whatever I wanted.”

 

 

You wrapped your fiance into a passionate kiss, totally ignoring the fact that your father was still standing a few feet behind you both.

 

 

Crowley felt awkward just standing there, the case Dean was working on and the information Crowley spent the better part of the morning getting, was also forgotten. It was time for him to go and next time, he really would need to phone ahead. He was happy that you found love but quite upset that it was with a Winchester. Of course, it was nothing he couldn’t fix by killing a few demons. That always lifted his spirits. With a deep sigh and a simple snap of his fingers, he left the both of you to celebrate. The only evidence that he had been there, a small note on the library table with the location of the stone.


End file.
